


If the Flannel Fits...

by nakedrednailpolish



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Stereotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakedrednailpolish/pseuds/nakedrednailpolish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thank you for stopping in.” Regina smiled up at her and Emma smiled back, again taking in the strange sight of Regina wearing a tie, of all things.<br/>“No problem,” Emma said, admiring the way Regina managed to look entirely feminine even in that red necktie. She imagined Regina wearing only that tie, Emma using the fabric to tug her closer…<br/>“See something you like?” Regina asked, snapping Emma’s eyes back up to hers.<br/>“Your tie,” Emma said plainly.<br/>Regina grinned, glancing down and smoothing it out before looking back up. “Do you like it? Thought I’d try something new.”<br/>Emma swallowed, trying to push the fantasy from her mind. “Yeah, looks great."</p><p>Tumblr prompt: Swan Queen - After realizing she has romantic feelings for Emma, Regina googles 'how to gay' and starts embodying all kinds of lesbian stereotypes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Flannel Fits...

            Emma could say she was thoroughly surprised to see Regina show up for softball tryouts. It surprised Emma even  _more_ that the usually pristine mayor modeled a black sports bra and a casual T-shirt with the sides cut out, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

            “Hey, Regina,” Emma greeted, narrowing her eyes at the outfit.

            “Emma,” Regina replied with a nod of her head. The brunette ducked into the dugout and started rifling through her duffle bag for a glove.

            “Why are you dressed like that?” Emma asked. The softball team was a new addition to Storybrooke, implemented by Regina herself. She’d said it be “good for the morale of women” in the town. Plus, Storybrooke already had a men’s recreational baseball team, so it only seemed fitting to form a women’s league as well.

            The brunette, having little to no knowledge of the sport, asked Emma if she’d be interested in captaining the team. Since Regina didn’t know much about it, Emma didn’t expect her to show up to any of the practices. Maybe a game or two to help with her mayoral PR, but definitely not the practices. And if she did show up, Emma expected her to dress in her usual pantyhose and heels – completely inappropriate for playing softball – instead of the black and white chucks she currently sported.

            Regina rolled her eyes. “This is a softball practice, Miss Swan. Do you expect me to wear a pantsuit at bat?”

            Emma blinked. “Wait… you’re _playing_?”

            “I do believe that’s what I just said,” Regina replied with a smirk, pulling out a glove and slipping it onto her right hand.

            “Do you even know how to _play_ softball?” Emma asked.

            “Of course I do,” she retorted, standing up and stalking out of the dugout. She plodded towards the grassy outfield, where other women were already passing softballs back and forth. As she passed third base, she brought the glove to her eye level, stared at it for about five seconds, and switched it to her other hand.

            Emma snorted, watching from her place in the dugout. This would definitely be interesting.

            *

            A few days later, Emma stopped by Regina’s office to fill out some paperwork for the softball league.

            The first thing Emma noticed was the tie. Paired with a white button-up and a navy blue blazer, the blood-red necktie stood out against the rest of the outfit. Despite (or possibly because of) how odd it was for Regina to wear the accessory, Emma found it insanely hot. She only faltered for a moment as she crossed the room, but Regina noticed her slip-up nonetheless.

            “Are you all right Emma? Not drinking on the job, are we?”

            Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course not, Regina. I’m not stupid.”

            “Debatable,” Regina quipped, standing to pass a glaring Emma some papers. “These need to be filled out before I contact other local softball leagues about games.”

            “Other softball leagues?”

            “Yes.” Regina resumed her seat and motioned for Emma to sit across from her. “I figured since we removed the curse on the town line and all has been relatively quiet, it would be safe to contact local teams for a few games.”

            Emma looked over the papers and started filling them out, though she argued, “Are you sure? I mean, the last time we let an outsider into town…”

            “I’ve already thought of that, Miss Swan,” Regina interrupted, apt to forget what happened with Owen. “The Storybrooke Cardinals will only play away games, never host…”

            Emma nodded as Regina talked, every so often glancing at that splash of color on Regina’s torso. The tie practically hugged the brunette’s neck, fitting snug beneath her collar. Emma’s eyes trailed downward, taking in how the silk fabric followed the curve of her breasts and disappeared behind the table…

            “… Does that sound all right, Miss Swan?”

            Blinking, Emma shifted her eyes from Regina’s chest to her face.

            “Emma?”

            Shaking her head, Emma returned her attention to the papers and continued filling them out.

            “Yeah, that sounds fine.”

            The shifted to an easy topic – Henry – as Emma focused on reading, filling out, and signing each of the papers.

            “All done,” Emma announced, passing Regina the stack of papers and rising from her seat.

            “Thank you for stopping in.” Regina smiled up at her and Emma smiled back, again taking in the strange sight of Regina wearing a _tie_ , of all things.

            “No problem,” Emma said, admiring the way Regina managed to look entirely feminine even in that red necktie. She imagined Regina wearing _only_ that tie, Emma using the fabric to tug her closer…

            “See something you like?” Regina asked, snapping Emma’s eyes back up to hers.

            “Your tie,” Emma said plainly.

            Regina grinned, glancing down and smoothing it out before looking back up. “Do you like it? Thought I’d try something new.”

            Emma swallowed, trying to push the fantasy from her mind. “Yeah, looks great.”

*

            During the next three softball practices, Regina wore a similar getup to her first one – mesh shorts, ponytail, and a T-shirt with the sides cut out so Emma could see her sports bra and smooth, tan stomach beneath it. The converse especially startled Emma since they caused Regina to lose a couple of inches in height. Standing next to her during practice, Emma realized why Regina wore heels almost 24-7.

            The mayor turned out to be a decent softball player – once she actually learned how to play. At first, it took several throws until Regina could catch the ball, but now, she caught almost every ball that headed her way. She could hit a double and threw almost as well as Tinkerbelle, whom Emma had decided would be their pitcher. And she had some great, great arms, which Emma got to see from all the cut-up T-shirts she’d been wearing. Regina’s muscles flexed when she swung the bat or threw a ball, and Emma loved watching them tighten and release with her motions.

            Along with those T-shirts, Regina started wearing a white snapback – with the red brim turned towards the _back_ of her head.

            Emma didn’t think much of it until Regina started wearing the cap to places _other_ than practice.

            Two weeks after her private meeting with the mayor, the Charmings decided to go out for dinner at Granny’s, and of course, they invited Regina to come along. When the brunette burst through the door, Emma’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

            Sporting a pair of Doc Martens and black skinny jeans, Regina swaggered (that’s right, _swaggered_ , with a wide stance and long, relaxed strides) over to the Charming’s booth in a white baseball tee with red sleeves, accompanied by that backwards-facing red and white snapback. Her boots didn’t even have _heels_ – an oddity for the feminine mayor. There was something tight in her step, as if she were unused to walking this way, but damn if Regina didn’t look hot while she did it.

            Emma licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry. Glancing at her parents and her son, all of whom wore similar expressions of confusion, Emma knew she wasn’t the only one who thought this was weird. No one mentioned it, though, as Regina scooted in beside Henry and greeted, “Hi, sorry I’m late. Did you all order yet?”

            Emma shook her head as Snow instantly handed Regina a menu – not that any of them needed it, with how frequently they ate here – and Ruby showed up to take their order. Before she began, she started into a speech about the restaurant’s new special.

            “We have a new special this week called the Monster Burger – a double-decker burger with egg, bacon, onion rings, cheese, and mayo on it. It’s huge!”

            Instantly sold, Henry exclaimed, “I’ll have one!”

            “Sounds great, kid,” Emma commented. “I’ll take one, too.”

            Ruby indicated Regina with her pencil’s eraser. “And you’ll take the Cobb salad?”

            The woman in question darted her eyes from Snow’s to Henry’s to Emma’s. “Actually, I… I think I’ll get the burger, too.”

            This time, the Charmings couldn’t help themselves.

            “Really?” Henry asked.

            “That burger’s, like, a thousand calories by itself. You sure?” Emma chimed in.

            Regina lifted her chin. “I know I usually scold you on eating such…” her eyes flew to a waiting Ruby, “ _greasy_ food. But tonight, I want to try something different.”

            Emma glanced at her dad, who looked as bewildered as she felt.

            “You sure that’s the _only_ thing you’re trying out?”

            Regina narrowed her eyes, suddenly defensive. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

            Ruby coughed, indicating she was still there and interrupting whatever accusations or arguments that would have ensued. After the group finished ordering, they let the conversation drop.

            Half an hour later, their burgers sat in front of them with a communal bowl of fries in the center of the table.

            “How’s the softball team doing?” David asked, offering a fry to little Neal.

            “Good,” Emma nodded, glancing at her teammate. “Regina’s getting pretty good at it.”

            “That’s great!” Snow exclaimed. “How do you like it, Regina?”

            Swallowing a bite of burger, Regina smiled. “It’s great. Emma’s a great captain.”

            Blushing, Emma replied, “Thanks, Regina, but really, the whole team’s doing well.”

            “Good,” David replied. “Think you’ll be able to beat the Camden Cardinals?”

            “Absolutely,” Regina said. “With Tinkerbelle and Ruby as our star players, we're definitely going to win.”

            “Do _all_ the teams have bird names?” Henry asked, dipping a fry into the lake of ketchup on his plate.

            Regina chuckled. “No, just us and the Cardinals.”

            “Speaking of Ruby,” Snow began in a hushed voice, “I hear she’s been hanging out pretty regularly with Aquata.”

            “Ariel’s sister?” Henry supplied.

            “Yes, that’s right.”

            Emma narrowed her eyes. “Yeah… so?”

            Snow shrugs and blushes. “I’m just wondering if they’re… you know… _together_?”

            Tilting her head in confusion, Emma answered, “I don’t know. Why would you think that?”

            “Well, they _have_ been spending an awful lot of time together, and aren’t they both on the softball team?”

            Following the lines of her mother’s thinking, Emma rolled her eyes. “ _Mom_. Just because someone’s on the softball team doesn’t make them gay.” She eyed Henry, apt to remind him, “You shouldn’t rely on stereotypes.”

            “Well, sure, I know that,” Snow went on. “You and Regina are on the team.”

            Emma’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t gathered the courage to tell anyone about her newly discovered sexuality, and she was sure if she didn’t say anything, everyone would assume she’s straight.

            “Right…” Emma replied. “Anyways, Ruby’s bisexual, not gay. You know that.”

            “I know. I’m just saying, I think they’d be great for each other, don’t you?”

            Just then, the bell above the door rang and in walked a young, beautiful brunette, wearing a long-sleeved, blue flannel shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. She crossed to the counter, where a beaming Ruby welcomed her, encouraged her to sit down, and brought her a cup of coffee. The table watched as the pair talked animatedly with each other, and Snow sat back in her chair, a smug smile plastered across her face.

            Damn her mother.

            “Sure, I guess they do.”

            Emma glanced at Regina, hoping to find an equally disgusted look in response to her mother’s assumptions and maybe share an eye roll. Instead, Regina’s eyes fixed themselves on her plate.

            Confused, Emma watched Regina swipe a few of her fries through a swirl of ketchup and into her mouth, all the while staying quiet and avoiding all eye contact.

            “Regina, what do you think?” she asked.

            Lifting her head up, Regina glanced between Emma and Snow.

            She shrugged. “Well, you certainly can’t expect everyone to adhere to a certain stereotype, but… if the flannel fits…” With a casual glance over her shoulder followed by a slight tilt of the head, Regina indicated Aquata’s pixie cut and shirt.

            Narrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Emma clarified, “I meant, what do you think about Ruby and Aquata together?”

            It was small, but Emma caught the slight widening of Regina’s eyes as she realized her mistake. “Oh.” She glanced back at the potential couple, appearing to mull the possibility over in her head. Turning back to the table, she said, “It’s not really any of my business, but sure, I think they’d make a nice couple.”

            “Yeah, Red Riding Hood and Ariel’s sister! I think it sounds awesome,” Henry said.

            Emma changed the subject. “So, Henry, how’s school?” Henry started into a description of his day, and Emma, Snow, and Regina nodded along and commented appropriately throughout his story.

            At one point, as Regina reached for a fry, a glint of light caught Emma’s attention. She zeroed in on Regina’s wrist, where a bulky, silver menswear watch reflected light from the lamp hanging over their table. Emma narrowed her eyes at it.

            “Nice watch,” she said, offering a confused look. Her eyes slid down to the brunette’s fingernails, which had been excessively trimmed down. _She must have broken a nail and cut her other fingernails to match it_ , Emma assumed, wondering how long Regina’s nails had been that short.

            Offering a curt, “Thank you,” Regina popped the fry into her mouth, eyes glinting with flattered mirth.

            First the softball, then the clothes and the odd attitude, and now the watch.

 _Something’s up with Regina_ , Emma mused, _and I’m going to find out what it is._

*

            Over the next few weeks, Regina kept up with whatever plan she had in mind, changing her wardrobe at an increasingly fast rate. She added flannel and jeans to her casual outfits, intermitting Doc Martens with the converse she wore to softball practice. At work, more neckties and even a few bowties appeared with her pantsuits, and the ratio of pants to skirts and dresses increased tenfold. None of which Emma minded because she found it insanely hot, but… the choices were so un-Regina-like that after her initial approval, they only encouraged Emma to wonder even further what in the hell Regina was up to.

            David and Snow didn’t seem too concerned about the change – in fact, they praised how great Regina looked in her new clothes. Henry insisted he had nothing to do with it. Whatever his mother was doing, she’d come up with it all on her own.

            At the beginning of April, her parents held another family dinner at their apartment. Regina showed up in a bright red, long-sleeved flannel shirt and, of course, her newly signature red and white cap.

            “Hey, Regina!” Snow greeted, wiping her hands on a towel and rushing to her side.

            Smiling, Regina held up a small, flat box. “I made blueberry pie,” she offered (because despite dramatically changing aspects of her wardrobe and personality, Regina still cooked like a goddess).

            Snow graciously took the dessert from Regina’s hands and brought it over to the kitchen, where she and David were preparing dinner.

            “Mom!” Henry exclaimed from the top of the steps. He raced down and barreled into his adoptive mother, who returned the hug just as fiercely.

            “Hi, Henry.”

            After they pulled away from each other, Henry plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him for Regina to join him.

            “C’mon, Mom, the game’s just starting!”

            “What game…?” she asked, pulling off her shoes and leaving them by the doorway.

            “The basketball game,” Henry replied, turning up the volume. “The NCAA Men’s Championship is tonight.”

            A blank look passed over Regina’s face as she registered his words. Brightening up, she replied, “Oh, right, the basketball game.”

            Henry narrowed his eyes. “Did you forget? You told me you liked basketball.”

            Regina swallowed and glanced at Emma, seated in the armchair beside him. “I did… I forgot.”

            She shucked her flannel shirt and tied it around her waist, revealing a low-cut, white tank top.

            Every jaw dropped to the floor.

            While the top gave Emma an excellent view of her cleavage and sideboob (of which she was very appreciative), it also revealed a big, fat tattoo on her upper left arm of a red apple with a knife struck through it.

            “What?” Regina asked nonchalantly, plopping down next to Henry.

            She followed four pairs of eyes to the picture on her arm. “Oh, this?”

            Emma nodded, working her mouth into action. “Uh, _yeah_ , that. When did you… Why did you…?”

            “As always, Miss Swan, you’re as eloquent as ever.”

            Henry, wide-eyed jumped in. “You got a tattoo, Mom?”

            For a moment, Regina’s eyes widened in fear, like maybe she hadn’t considered Henry’s reaction until this very moment. Then, she blinked and the look was gone.

            “I did. Are you mad?”

            “No,” Henry replied, breaking into a wide grin. “It’s awesome! Can I touch it?”

            Regina smiled at his interest. “Sure. I’ve had it for a while, so it should be safe to touch.”

            As Henry probed the ink on his mother’s arm, Snow came around the counter and leaned over them to get a better look.

            “When did you get it?”

            “A little over a month ago. I considered having the knife cut into your head, but I figured the apple would be easier on the tattoo artist.”

            Snow rolled her eyes at the jab and continued: “Who gave it to you?”

            “One of the dwarfs. Bashful, I think.”

            Emma considered the implication of Bashful owning the only tattoo shop in town. He knew exactly what and where each citizen was tattooed. No wonder he blushed so much.

            “Why’d you get it?” she questioned.

            Regina glared. “Why do you need to know? Can’t a fully-grown woman get a simple tattoo without an interrogation?”

            “Mom, can I get a tattoo?”

            “No, you may not,” she rattled off without thinking. After a moment, though, she revised her answer. “Maybe when you’re eighteen.”

            Henry, however, seemed satisfied and muttered, “Cool,” as he turned back to the TV.

            For a while, the three (and eventually four, when David joined them) watched the game, occasionally cheering when a player made a basket or screaming when the refs called a bad foul.

            Emma kept her eyes on Regina. Before joining in on the cheering or booing, the brunette took a split second to glance at the others around her. Emma suspected Regina knew as much about basketball as she did about softball (before she started playing), meaning those looks were to ascertain which reaction to show.

            Snow called the family to dinner, and they scarfed down the meal followed by slices of Regina’s blueberry pie.

            (When Emma dipped her middle finger into the uncut center, dug out some filling, and sucked it off, she caught Regina watching her every movement, pupils dilated.)

            David and Henry retired to the couch as the women cleared away the dishes. Snow started some tea, and Emma opened the fridge to retrieve a beer and a bottle of wine.

            “Glass of wine, Madame Mayor?”

            Regina’s dark, chocolate eyes trailed to the can in Emma’s hand.

            “A beer is fine, thanks.”

            Emma raised her eyebrows, giving Regina a chance to change her mind, before stowing the wine bottle back in the fridge and instead emerging with another beer can. She closed the door and passed one to Regina.

            Cracking open her own, she took a long drink before wiping her mouth with her sleeve, burping, and glancing back at Regina.

            Tentatively, the mayor popped open her own can, lifted it to her lips, sniffed, and hesitantly took a sip.

            The poorly masked grimace that followed told Emma exactly what she needed to know.

            “Regina. I need to talk to you. Upstairs.” It wasn’t a question.

            She set her can on the counter and stormed up the steps, leaving her family to stare confusedly at an equally dumbfounded Regina.

            Emma paced her bedroom furiously until she heard Regina’s footsteps (gentle instead of clunky, since she wasn’t wearing her boots) coming up the stairs.

            Before the brunette could even get a word out, Emma whispered harshly, “What the hell are you doing?”

            “Excuse me?”

            “With the… with everything… with… with the softball, and… and the boots, and the snapback, and… and now that _tattoo_. What the fuck are you up to?”

            Regina’s eyes widened, clearly caught. Her lips parted slightly, searching for a response.

            “This makes no fucking sense. I can’t figure it out at all. _Please_ , tell me why you’ve been walking around Storybrooke for the past few weeks like you’re trying to be the eighth dwarf.”

            Regina licked her lips and straightened her cap, saying nothing.

            Realizing the brunette wasn’t planning on talking anytime soon, Emma’s voice softened. “Shit, Regina, I’m… I’m not trying to… judge you… or anything. I like it. I just… suddenly you’re interested in sports and dressing like a lumberjack and pretending to like beer and I just don’t get it.”

            Defensive, Regina crossed her arms. “What do you care?”

            Emma reached for her arm, but Regina jerked away from the touch. “Well, I think you look pretty great in that tank top, but it’s definitely not you.”

            “Not me,” she repeated, eyes narrowing. “What do you know about me?”

            “I know you’ve never worn snapbacks or flannel before you joined the softball team.”

            Regina shrugged. “So what? I tried a new style and I liked it.”

            “You like pantsuits and heels.”

            Regina moved her hands to her hips, showing off her toned arms and apple tattoo. “Maybe I like both. Maybe this isn’t any of your business.”

            “It could be.” Regina avoided her eyes, and Emma tried to catch them by bending into her eyeline. “If you just tell me. Why are you acting like this? You’re literally turning yourself into a lesbian stereotype…”

            “ _Emma_.”

            She froze, stopping mid-sentence.

            The two were quiet for a long moment, Emma waiting for Regina to speak and Regina trying to gather her words.

            Finally, sighing, Regina sat down at the foot of the bed.

            She worked her jaw and took a deep breath.

            “If the flannel fits.”

            Emma's eyebrows rose in surprise, everything suddenly clicking into place. The softball. The watch. The Doc Martens. The hat. It was like Regina had walked through a “Lesbians R Us” and bought every stereotype in the store. Gently, Emma joined Regina on the edge of the bed, leaving enough space between them so Regina wouldn’t freak out.

            “Okay.” Emma waited for further explanation, and when none came, prompted, “How long have you known?”

            Wringing her hands together, Regina took a deep breath before continuing. “A while. I realized I had feelings for someone.” Slowly, Regina brought her eyes up to meet Emma’s emerald ones, looking more like a child caught stealing sweets instead of an adult woman. “I figured if I wanted to date a woman, I had to act like it.”

            Smiling, Emma reached for Regina again, but this time Regina didn’t stop her. Emma settled her hand on the active ones below her.

            “You know, you don’t have to act or dress like a lesbian to be one.”

            Regina’s chocolate eyes flared with emotion, and Emma couldn’t tell if it was anger or fear. “How would you know?”

            Taking a deep breath, Emma knew the only way forward was to be completely honest. “You’re not the only one here who has feelings for another woman.”

            Regina barely acknowledged the admission, continuing, “Okay, but _you_ wear beanies and flannel.”

            “Yeah, because that’s how I dress, not because I’m a lesbian.”

            Running a hand through her hair, Regina’s eyes sought the floor. “This was a stupid idea.”

            Emma shrugged. “Maybe not _completely_ stupid. You know, you look kinda badass with that tattoo.”

            Regina smirked. “You know, it’s not real.”

            “What?”

            Regina waved a hand over her arm and suddenly the apple disappeared, replaced by smooth olive skin.

            Emma marveled at the magic for a moment (even as the Dark One, there were many things Emma hadn’t learned to do yet, and damn, how she loved to watch Regina do magic) before sobering.

            Chocolate bore into emerald, overflowing with emotion. Suddenly, she understood exactly what the past several weeks had been about, and without even thinking, Emma leaned forward and pressed her lips against Regina's.

            The brunette's breath hitched at the contact, though she instantly reciprocated, bringing her hand up to cup Emma's cheek. Emma rested her free hand against Regina's waist. They pulled apart with equal grins.

            "Glad you're finally perceptive enough to read me," Regina teased.

            “Hey," Emma protested. "You heard me say I didn't believe in stereotypes. I was giving you the benefit of the doubt."

            "Or you're just an oblivious idiot."

            Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but now I guess I'm _your_ idiot."

            "That you are." Regina smiled as she pulled her back in for another kiss.

            This time, when they pulled away, Regina pulled the snapback off her head. “Well, I’m glad I don’t have to wear this anymore.”

            Emma chuckled, taking the hat from her and putting it on her own head. “You know, just because you like girls doesn’t mean you have to wear any of this stuff.”

            “I know,” Regina replied.

            “How far were you planning to go?” Emma asked. “If I didn’t say anything. Would you have gotten a pixie cut and dyed your hair rainbow?”

            Regina laughed. “Like hell would I do that to my hair.”

            Emma ran her fingers though Regina’s coffee locks and smiled. “Yeah, I like your hair the way it is.”

            “But I did like a few of the things I wore.” She lifted her wrist to indicate her new accessory. “I like the watch.”

            Emma took Regina’s wrist, running her thumb over the face of the watch. “I like it when you wear neckties.”

            Regina scooted closer. “I like the way you look at me when I wear neckties.” She shifted, placing a hand on Emma’s knee. “You know, the tattoo on my arm may have been fake, but I did get a real one somewhere a little more… private.” She licked her scarlet lips. “You should have seen how red that dwarf got when I told him where I wanted it.”

            Emma put a hand on top of the one on her leg. “He blushes at everything.”

            “Well, this time, he was as red as a chili pepper.” Her hand inched higher, rubbing Emma’s thigh softly. “Maybe you’d like to see it sometime?”

            “Absolutely,” Emma said, leaning in for another kiss. “Still want that beer?”

            “No way,” Regina replied. “I’ll stick to wine.”

            “Great, more for me.”

            They decided not to tell their family just yet – who knows what they’d have to say about their new relationship or how long it would last – and descended the steps to the living room. Emma poured a glass of red for Regina and took both cans of beer for herself. They settled on the couch on either side of Henry.

            “Everything all right?” Snow asked, clearly worried the women had been about to kill each other.

            “Everything’s great, Mom,” Emma said, chugging one of the beers.

            Snow watched her for a few more seconds, and Emma squirmed under her gaze.

            Finally, “Why are you wearing Regina’s hat?”


End file.
